LITMIR.BIZ

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the edge of the desk.

      “What?” asked Tish.

      “It just hit me. If anyone finds out about this, we’re going to be known as the cat lady law firm.”

      “Two single women in their mid-thirties who share an office with a cat. Not exactly a stretch.”

      “Speak for yourself, Tish.”

      *

      Spencer Capshaw and his partner Ariel Nix headed toward the courtroom on a reconnaissance mission.

      The two thirty-five year old lawyers needed to check out the new judge in town, as they had an upcoming case on her docket. If a judge was one who didn’t play by the rules, or was a major pain, they needed to know in advance.

      Spencer held the door for Ariel as they entered the crowded courtroom and took seats in the last row, already filled with a bunch of lawyers who’d obviously had the same idea. He tried to get comfortable on the ancient, hard wooden bench that was worse than a church pew, stretching out his lean five-foot-ten frame. “So, what did you dig up on this judge from your friends?”

      “Not much you’re going to like, Spence. The term ballbuster did come up a lot.”

      “So she’s really tough on the guys, huh?”

      “That comment came from the women.”

      He ran his hands through his dark, tousled hair. “Wonderful.”

      “Oh, stop it. You always manage to charm even the crustiest female judge with that boy-next-door persona you’ve got going. You flash those big olive green eyes, give them the innocent look and it’s game over.” The tall, slender brunette crossed her legs and rocked a four inch red heel on her toe as she leaned back. Her hazel eyes focused on the front of the courtroom.

      “Oh, like you don’t flirt with men on the jury.”

      “I plead the fifth on the grounds you may be right. And that was just one juror.” He gave her a disbelieving look. “Okay, maybe two or three.”

      “I think you’ve simply lost count.”

      “All rise!” The bailiff’s voice echoed through the ancient courtroom. “Court is now in session. The honorable Rebecca Winston presiding.”

      Conversation stopped as the judge entered, took her seat on the bench and looked at some paperwork through gold-rimmed bifocals as everyone in the room sat down. Judge Winston looked to be in her mid-forties, a slim, dark brunette with straight hair that curled under her chin.

      A tall blonde attorney approached the bench. Spencer sat up straight as he locked in on her. Hair up, horn-rimmed glasses, ultra conservative blue suit with a knee-length skirt, pale silk blouse buttoned up to her neck. “Who is that?”

      Ariel patted his hand. “Down, boy.”

      Spencer figured what Ariel had heard about the judge was exaggerated, especially since the lawyers for both sides were women and nothing out of the ordinary had happened. Judge Winston appeared to be tough but fair, and ran a tight ship. By the book, followed the law and kept things moving. If she had any political leanings, they weren’t evident. His kind of judge. All he ever wanted was a fair trial from someone who didn’t have an agenda.

      But what captured his attention was the performance of the blonde attorney as she cross-examined the current witness. The middle-aged man on the stand squirmed in his seat and kept mopping his brow, as her laser-sharp questions kept his flop sweat on a steady flow. Spencer leaned over and whispered in Ariel’s ear. “Damn, she’s amazing. This is like the legal version of waterboarding.”

      “The witness looks like he’s getting a prostate exam with a yardstick.”

      He crossed his legs as his face tightened. “Thank you for that lovely mental picture.”

      The attorney continued to hammer the witness, barely giving him time to finish his answer before hitting him with another question. The man stammered as he started to give a long, ridiculous answer to her question.

      Then she turned to the jury, her back to the judge, pulled a handkerchief out of her pocket, took off her glasses to clean them and gave the jury a world class eye roll.

      They all smiled.

      She finished cleaning her glasses as she turned back to the witness.

      Spencer couldn’t help but admire her.

      Ariel cocked her head at the attorney. “You catch that thing with the glasses and the look she gave to the jury? Pretty slick.”

      “She’s got great eyes. I’ve never seen such a deep blue.”

      “Oh for God’s sake, I was talking about the eye roll to the jury that the judge couldn’t see.”

      “Yeah, that was a neat trick. She still has great eyes. You think she’s got colored contact lenses?”

      “Duh, she’s wearing glasses, Sherlock.”

      “Oh, right.”

      “Geez, if you ever have to face her in court you won’t have a chance.”

      The attorney finished up what could only be described as an inquisition of the witness and the judge looked at her watch. “I think this is a good stopping point,” said the judge. “We’ll recess for lunch and I want everyone back here at one-thirty sharp. And that does not mean one-thirty-one.”

      The blonde attorney raised one finger. “Approach the bench before we go, your honor?”

      “Make it quick, counselor. There’s a pastrami sandwich with my name on it in my chambers. Which I assume the bailiff remembered to order. And I hope he got one for himself.” The bailiff nodded and smiled as the crowd chuckled. The judge motioned for the attorney to come forward, put her hand over the microphone and leaned toward her. She listened for a minute, then nodded as the attorney went back to her desk. The judge looked up at the crowd. “It has been brought to my attention that there has been a good bit of distracting chatter from the back of the room. Apparently the last row in a courtroom is the same as the one in a classroom, filled with those hooligans who can’t keep quiet. Now I understand that since this is my first day there are a lot of attorneys here as you guys want to get a feel for the new sheriff in town. So let me say that if I hear so much as a whisper from a lawyer who is not involved in this case when we return from lunch, I will have no qualms about sending those who can’t shut the hell up for a mini-vacation in a rather uncomfortable cell. And speaking of cells, I’d better not hear any of those ring either.” She narrowed her eyes at the back row. “Do I make myself clear?”

      The blonde attorney looked in Spencer’s direction. He turned and looked to both sides, as if searching for the culprit.

      Ariel shook her head, wrote on her legal pad and slid it onto his lap.

       Bus-ted.

      Spencer handed his lunch menu to the waiter and turned to Ariel. “So, what did you think?”

      “I thought the judge was very fair. I don’t think she was biased either way. If she has an agenda it will take a while for everyone to figure it out. And obviously she has no tolerance for people who disrupt her courtroom. I think she got a bad rap from the people I talked to. I wouldn’t have a problem with her.”

      “Not the judge. What did you think about the attorney?”

      “The short brunette? Eh, she was okay.”

      “I meant the other one.” His eyes widened as he flashed a slight smile.

      “I know you did. Ah, I knew she was your type.”

      “I don’t have a type.”

      “Oh, bull. She’s just like all the other women you’ve dated.”

      “I’ve never been out with a blonde.”

      Ariel

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